In the Garden
by just slummin
Summary: This AU MalRiver story was written for the MalRiver ficathon on LiveJournal.  It is NOT a part of my continuing MalRiver storyline.  Just a little side trip for the sake of fun.Summary:  River Tam finds something she’d been missing.
1. Chapter 1

**In the Garden**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, and am playing with them in another 'verse again.

Author's Note: This AU Mal/River story was written for the Mal/River ficathon on LiveJournal. It is NOT a part of my continuing Mal/River storyline. Just a little side trip for the sake of fun.

Summary: River Tam finds something she'd been missing.

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River Tam loved to dance. And so, despite the insistence of her parents that she attend the very prestigious government-sponsored Academy for Gifted Children, she had defied their wishes and attended the Academy of Performing Arts instead. Now, at the age of twenty-one, she found herself well on her way to becoming the prima ballerina of the 'verse-renowned Capitol City Ballet Company of Osiris.

River enjoyed her professional life. However, she was beginning to feel an emptiness in her personal life which no amount of dancing could fill. Her unusual schedule made a social life difficult to maintain, and though she'd had a dalliance or two with some of the young men in the Company, she found them for the most part much too dull for her keen intellect. Simon, ever the vigilant brother, had attempted to set her up with doctors of his acquaintance, but now that he had been elected to the Medical Elite, he found little time to intervene in River's affairs.

Having completed the last performance of the evening and the season, River had a month to fill and nothing truly compelling with which to fill it. As had become her custom after the evening performances, she walked home alone through the city streets, catching snatches of the intimate lives of perfect strangers by randomly reading the thoughts of casual passersby. Even with her unique abilities, she felt oddly disconnected from the people around her. Why that should be so, she could not quite fathom.

River lived in a small house on a tree-lined street away from the more densely populated areas of the city. Though Gabriel and Regan Tam had offered to find her a more suitable home, River preferred the freedom of living in a house she had purchased with her own money, and so, used by now to their daughter's headstrong ways, the Tams had let the subject drop. River loved her house and the little garden outside it, where she spent hours cultivating the beautiful flowers she had planted with her own hands.

Following the walkway up to her front door, she stopped suddenly, abruptly aware that she was not alone. Looking carefully into the darkness, she discerned the shape of a man huddled in the shelter of her shrubbery, obviously in some sort of distress. Fragmented thoughts bombarded her psyche, and she could tell that the man was delirious with fever. Almost of their own volition, her feet propelled her forward and she leaned down to look at the man more closely.

What she saw made her gasp. The man looked as if he was two short seconds shy of death, his glassy eyes darting apprehensively at the sound of her sharp inhalation. He drew his arms more tightly around his body. River knelt beside him, strangely unafraid despite his appearance. His hair was matted to his head in a greasy clump, and she could discern open wounds and sores through the grime on his skin. At her scrutiny, the man drew up further, practically in a fetal position.

River reached out again with her mind, discovering among his chaotic thoughts an overwhelming fear of being discovered by the authorities. Though reasonably speaking she knew such a fear should cause her to worry for her own safety, she discovered that she was not afraid of the man at all. So, she reached out to touch him. The man flinched away instinctively, his terror palpable even if she had not been a Reader. He mumbled something unintelligible in a dry rasp.

River spoke soothingly. "I mean you no harm. I will not call the authorities. But you can't sleep here in my garden. You're sick, and you need to be cared for. Dong ma?"

Responding to her low, calm voice, the man stilled. Emboldened, she continued. "My name is River Tam, and this is my house. Inside there is food, and a warm bed. You are welcome to come in and rest for a bit. But you must promise not to harm me. Do you understand?"

The man looked into her large brown eyes, obviously trying to concentrate on her words through the fever-induced confusion. River stared back placidly, flooding his mind with images of safety and comfort. "Come inside," she said softly.

Struggling shakily to his feet, the man obeyed.

XXXXXXXXXX

The short walk into the house had drained the last of the man's strength, and River helped him slide onto the bed of her spare room just as his legs gave way. He groaned pitifully, and slipped into sleep almost immediately. River stood staring at him for a time, mildly surprised that she should have so easily allowed him into her home. Easily sensing that his sleep was heavy, she pulled his boots off. When he did not stir, she felt satisfied that she could do the rest of what needed to be done without disturbing him. Silently gathering supplies from her medicine cabinet and a large basin of water, she carefully peeled off the rest of his clothes, wincing with sympathy as she worked.

Though the man was tall and broad-shouldered, he was painfully thin. His hollowed cheeks and clearly-defined ribcage told her that he had been very hungry for a long time. As she gently ran the warm, wet cloth over his chest and arms, she uncovered old scars, bullet wounds and long, thin lines that spoke to her of knives and swords. On the inside of his left wrist was a tattoo, a string of numbers she knew from history lessons to indicate that he'd been a prisoner of war.

But as she bathed the rest of his body, she saw newer wounds, some poorly healed but others still raw, inflamed and angry. He looked like the epitome of abuse delivered with a vicious intent, and she wondered what he had done to put himself in a position to receive such brutal treatment.

After she had cleaned and dressed his wounds as best she could, she rolled him over gently, changing the now-damp sheets beneath him. When the task was completed, she pulled a thin sheet over him, gathered up his filthy clothes for the laundry, and stepped back out of the room.

As she waited for the sheets and clothes to wash and dry, she went to the cortex screen and hacked easily into the government database. She typed in the numbers of his tattoo and discovered the identity of her visitor. A former sergeant in the Independent Army and a recently released inmate of the Osiris Military Prison, his name was apparently Malcolm Reynolds.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Dr. Tam, there's a wave for you," Simon's assistant said, popping her head into his office.

"Can you take a message, please?" Simon said, up to his head in patient review charts.

"Of course, Dr. Tam," she replied briskly. "But it's your sister."

Simon's head shot up, startled. "Patch it through," he said, instantly turning his undivided attention to the screen. In a minute, River's face appeared. "Don't be alarmed, Simon," she said right away, sensing his concern. "I'm fine. I just need you to stop by the house after work. And bring your medical bag."

Simon's worry went into overdrive. "Why, mei mei? Are you injured?'

"No, I'm not," she replied. "But my house guest is. I'll explain everything when you get here," she added to forestall further questions. "See you later."

Simon turned off the screen and gathered his charts in a large pile. Wishing his surprised assistant a pleasant evening, he left the office. What was the point of being one of the Medical Elite if a man couldn't leave the hospital once in awhile, he thought, checking his medical bag for the proper supplies.

XXXXXXXXXX

River was startled to hear the knock on her door less than an hour later. Before she could completely open it, Simon pushed in. "What's the emergency, River?" he asked urgently.

"There is no emergency, Simon," she replied calmly. "And please keep your voice down. He's still asleep."

"He?" Simon asked. "He who?"

"My guest," River replied, as if she was speaking to a small child. "Come on. He's in the spare room."

Simon followed her, wondering what River had gotten into now. When he saw the battered man in the bed, he let out a surprised hiss. "Who the hell is that, River?" he asked, trying to keep his voice down. "And what is he doing in your house?"

"I believe his name is Malcolm Reynolds," she said calmly. "He was hiding in the bushes in my garden. So, I asked him in. And as you can see…" she paused, looking pointedly at Simon. "He needs a doctor."

"Wo de tien ah, River," Simon sputtered. "You can't just pick up men like strays and bring them into your home. Who knows what he might be? I'm calling the police."

River moved to block his path, anger flashing in her eyes. "I'm not an idiot, Simon," she said. "I read him already. He means no harm, and he needs our help."

"That's what hospitals are for," Simon said, interrupting her.

"I'm not taking him to a hospital. He's staying here, period. But he needs your help." So saying, she pulled back the thin sheet, revealing the infected wounds to Simon.

Simon gasped involuntarily. "My God, what happened to him?"

"The government happened to him," River said bitterly. Her seemingly baseless hatred for the Alliance had been a source of contention between them for some time. "At least, that's what I think." She turned Reynolds' wrist for Simon to see.

Simon looked at her, stupefied by her actions. "You're knowingly harboring a criminal?"

River rolled her eyes. "He was released from prison three weeks ago, according to the Cortex. I'm not breaking any law. And even if I were, look at him, Simon. Would you turn him back over to whoever did this?"

Simon swallowed nervously, recognizing River's most determined tone. "No, I probably wouldn't," he admitted.

"Then, help him," she said. "Give him the medication he needs, and I'll handle the rest."

Simon did as he was told.

XXXXXXXXXX

Some time in the third night, Mal's fever broke and he awoke, aching and drenched in a cold sweat. Blinking rapidly to clear his vision, he examined his surroundings in surprise. He had fully expected to wake up outdoors under what natural shelter he could find, but instead he found himself in a comfortable bed in a warm room. Stretching his aching limbs, he discovered that he'd been stripped, bathed, and apparently doctored on, if the clean, white bandages were any indication. He closed his eyes, allowing himself the luxury of enjoying the sensation of having been cared for, if only for a moment. It had been a gorram long time since he had felt any such thing.

He heard the click of the turning doorknob, and warily opened his eyes, his body automatically tensing in anticipatory dread. He was momentarily stunned when he saw the graceful woman slip into the room. Her hair was long and shiny, pulled back from her face with a haphazardly placed clip. She wore some sort of filmy nightgown and her gentle curves were displayed to stunning perfection. She was altogether the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, he thought, as she moved silently to the side of the bed.

Smiling shyly, she looked at him with impossibly bright, brown eyes. "I'm happy to see you're awake," she said softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Mal said hoarsely. 'And it would seem I've got you to thank, Mrs…?"

"Miss," River corrected. "River Tam."

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Tam," he said politely. "And I'm obliged to you for your kindness. Name's Malcolm Reynolds, but most call me Mal."

"Pleased to meet you, Mal," River said, mimicking his manner. "I'm called River, by those few who call at all. You must be terribly thirsty. Let me get you something to drink."

She slipped out of the room as quietly as she'd entered, and Mal felt oddly bereft in her absence.

XXXXXXXXXX

To Simon's surprise and River's delight, Mal began to recover rapidly under her gentle care. Within a week, he had gained enough strength to walk about in River's garden unaided, though she always hovered close by in case he should suddenly be struck by weakness. As they walked, River talked, the sound of her voice warming a place deep inside Mal that he had thought long-since frozen. He said little, having lost the art of casual conversation somewhere in the length of his ten-year imprisonment. He took it as a kindness that she did not seem to mind, never quite realizing that she read his story in the lines of his face and the scars on his back.

Simon came by on most days to check on his patient as well as his rebellious sibling. Though he lacked River's ability to read Mal, he could see the strength of his character in little things, and his worry for his mei mei's safety diminished slightly.

River, for her part, saw to Mal's physical comforts in a way that left him overwhelmed by the generosity of it. She went to the market every day, finding delectable treats such as he had not tasted since well before the war, until finally his cheeks filled out and his skin took on a healthier glow. She carefully tended to his injuries, until he was able to see to them himself. And through it all, she sent him peace, subtly draining the worst of his horrors away from him in the long watches of the night while he slept unaware of her psychic ministrations.

By the fourth week, Mal was able to repay her kindnesses, at least in small ways. She awoke one morning to find him mending the screen door she'd been neglecting for months. He took to weeding her garden, his work-calloused hands gentle with the tender shoots of new growth. And as River watched those hands, what had been compassion was replaced by a deeper, stronger emotion. Exposed to the hardness in him by her nightly sojourns into his mind, now she saw in his hands the tenderness inside him, the beauty that his bitter experiences had failed to leech from his deepest self. And here, in this most carefully guarded part of him, she found a home for her own spirit.

Feeling the sudden weight of her gaze, Mal looked up from his work. Backlit by the early morning sun, River looked to him like some goddess sprung from the earth into wild, riotous life. His slow smile, an expression she was just beginning to see with regularity, warmed her to the very core. "Everything okay, River?" he asked.

Suddenly tongue-tied, River stammered. "Y-yes. I'm fine."

Mal stood up, dusting his hands across his thighs. "Just thought I'd finish up the weeding before the heat of the day."

River nodded. "It looks lovely," she replied. "The garden has really flourished under your touch."

"Just needed a little care, I conjure," he said softly, drowning in the liquid depths of her brown eyes.

Without conscious thought, River reached out to wipe a smear of dirt from his cheek. Mal's hand went up to cover hers, and he turned his lips into the hollow of her palm. Placing a soft kiss there, he said, "S'pose that's what every living thing has need of."

River leaned forward, melting bonelessly under the gaze of his blue eyes. "Suppose so," she whispered against his chest.

Unnerved by the sensations she created in him, Mal pulled away, leaving her chilled in the morning breeze.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn'ta' done that." He stuck his hands into his pockets to prevent himself from touching her again. "I'm a sorry hundan for takin' advantage, when you've shown me nothin' but kindness. Best I should be going."

River's heart beat wildly against her ribcage, and she felt as if she could not draw breath. "No," she cried, much more forcefully than she'd intended. "You can't go. Not now. Not when…" She stopped, searching for the words to make him see.

Mal looked at her uncertainly. "Not when what?' he asked, some small part of him daring to hope just a little.

"Not when I need a little care," she finished quietly, the flush on her cheeks accenting the pleading in her eyes.

Mal's heart fluttered dizzyingly as he stared at her. "You have no idea what you're asking for, no idea of who I really am."

River stood before him, her soul bared to his gaze. "Then tell me," she whispered. "Only take a very, very long time in the telling." And holding out her hand, she led him home.

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	2. Chapter 2

**In the Garden—The Sequel**

Author: just-slummin

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.

Rating: PG

Author's Note: For those kind souls who asked so very nicely, here is the sequel to the AU Mal/River tale entitled "In the Garden". I hope those who asked for it will enjoy it!

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Closing the screen door gently behind him, Mal looked at River, drinking in the sheer beauty of the young woman. She stood quietly, seemingly content to let him look his fill. Licking his suddenly dry lips, he said, "I ain't altogether sure this is the best idea. I'm only a few years shy of being old enough to be your Daddy, and I ain't the best of men besides."

River looked up at him with her impossibly large brown eyes. "Historically speaking, it is a time-honored tradition in some cultures for younger women to be mated to older men."

Mal swallowed nervously. "You expectin' to be 'mated' to me?" he asked, his words almost a whisper.

River blushed. "I'm just pointing out that such a union would not be completely unheard of. But apart from that, you are not my father, so the point is a moot one. As for your character, I prefer to make my own determination." She looked up at him steadily, her shoulders squared almost defiantly.

Mal took a long, slow breath, trying to ignore the effect her words and actions were having on his body. He could barely remember the last time he'd felt such sensations. Holding up his wrist, he pointed to the numbers tattooed there. "Do you know what these are?"

"Prisoner identification tattoo used by the Alliance to signify an enemy combatant who has been convicted of war crimes," she said, as if reciting a history lesson.

Somehow hearing the words cut Mal more deeply than looking at the marks. "That's right, River. Kind as you've been to me, I ain't a part of your world. I've been ten years locked away from any scrap of humanity, beaten and starved and forced to live like an animal until my soul got hollowed out. I've been a dead man for a long while, just waitin' for my body to catch on to the fact. Only it didn't, so I keep on breathin'. But I got nothin' inside to offer to a woman such as you, and no right to take what you're offerin' to me." He looked at her desolately, unshed tears spiking his long lashes.

River closed the gap between them, placing her palms flat against his chest. "Were that truly the case, I would not offer anything. But you're not dead inside." She pressed her hands down gently, feeling the wild beating of his heart. "There's life in you yet, and hope against all odds. And there's a place for me inside you that matches the place you have inside me. I know it. Let me in. Give this to me. Let me give this to you. Please."

Mal looked down at her upturned face, scarcely able to breathe for the wild optimism in her eyes and the vulnerability of her trembling lips. Surrendering to the power of her unshakable belief, he cupped her cheek and kissed her gently, as if she was made of fairy glass. The soft wanting sound low in her throat ignited a fierce joy in him, and longings ruthlessly suppressed for years bubbled up as River's lips parted under his questing tongue. When their need for air forced them apart, they stood looking at each other, shaken to the core by the intensity of the moment stretching between them.

"Come lie with me," Mal whispered. And River did.

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Later, her body still humming with sensation, River lay draped across Mal's side. Careful of his recently healed wounds, she whispered, "Are you okay?"

Mal smiled the slow, lazy smile that stole her breath. "I'm much better than okay, darlin'. Haven't felt so alive in…a long, long time. But isn't that typically what I should be askin' you?"

He felt the upturn of River's lips against his chest. "I'm not a very typical woman," she answered, nipping lightly at his skin.

"So I'm noticin'," he replied, beginning to tingle again under her touch.

Reluctantly, River pulled away from the warmth of his body. "Wish we'd done this before," she said.

"Not sure I could have, until now," Mal said honestly.

Smiling tenderly, River ran her hands lightly down his body. "Just wish we had more time before I had to go back to work. Training starts tomorrow."

"What time?" Mal asked.

"Six o'clock in the morning," she said.

"Seems to me that leaves us a few hours yet, if you're willing," Mal said, his hands roaming pleasantly along her silky skin.

River shivered under his touch. "I'm willing," she whispered.

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While River spent her days rehearsing, Mal tried to acclimate to life outside prison. Though he was healing physically to some degree, he found that ten years of being beaten to hell and back had stolen a portion of his previous strength that he would never regain. And then there was the psychological toll. River had done what she could to alleviate some of the damage, but Mal awoke more often than not gasping and choking on remembered horrors. At first embarrassed by what he perceived as weakness, he soon grew to depend on River's unfailing steadiness. Lying with her arms wrapped around him and her psyche entwined with his as well, Mal whispered secrets in the dark, letting the poison that had eaten into his soul out in very small doses.

His days were spent in search of employment. Having been raised to believe a man had to earn his keep to be considered a real man, Mal found it an especially bitter pill to swallow when he was turned away by employer after employer because of his 'criminal' background. Each look of disgust, each rejection, each word of verbal abuse left him feeling angry and emasculated. Finally, when he could get nothing better, he found work at the docks. The work was back-breakingly hard and somewhat south of respectable, but it was the only thing he could find to earn a wage.

It was not completely without its advantages, however. He spent time in the sun every day, until his skin took on a healthy, golden glow. And he met people who were not too particular about his past, like the little mechanic that kept the mules and forklifts of the docks in repair. She had a smile like the sun over Shadow, and her name was Kaylee Cobb. Mal was somewhat mystified as to how she came she came to work on the docks of Osiris, as she was so evidently from a Rim world. When asked, Kaylee cheerfully pointed at her belly, swollen with child. "This 'un's daddy works a ship runs from here on a fair regular route. Met Jayne Cobb at a bar on Harvest, where I'm from, and we got a little more friendly than Daddy liked. Next thing I know, I'm two months gone and standin' in a church 'side Jayne with my Daddy and brothers standin' right behind to see the thing got done proper. Seemed easier to move here once we was married. Least this way, I get to see him on a fair regular basis. Mebbe next time he's dirtside, I'll introduce him to ya'." Mal smiled and said that would be just fine.

But the best thing about the docks was the ships themselves. Mal had long dreamed of sailing away into the Black, where the Alliance did not have the stranglehold it had on the Core planets. Lying in trenches with Zoe, looking up at the stars, he'd imagined owning his own ship, maybe having a little crew. For the first two years of his imprisonment, he held on to that dream. But as his captors had beaten the strength from his body, so too they had dampened whatever ideas of possible freedom he'd had. Fully expecting to die any day, he'd stopped allowing himself the thought of the Black.

However, watching the ships coming and going from the Osiris docks resurrected that desire, much as River's love had revived other desires within him. Maybehaps one day, he thought, as he bent his back to the tasks at hand.

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River straightened Mal's tie and stood back to look at the picture he presented. "You look magnificent," she said appreciatively.

Mal ran his finger under the uncomfortable collar of his shirt. "I'da' been glad to buy it myself," he said, running his hands down the front of his suit. "Though I ain't rightly sure I'da' bought one so fine."

River smiled, giving him the lightest of kisses. "I wanted to do it," she said. "It matches my dress perfectly. We'll be quite the sensation at the after-party, I imagine."

Mal smiled, happy to see her enthusiasm even if he was somewhat uncomfortable about hobnobbing with the elite of Osiris society. It was the opening night of the ballet season, and the first time River would have the starring role in a production. Mal was eager to see her dance onstage, but less than thrilled by the prospect of spending the evening with her parents. On the very rare occasions they'd met before, it was obvious that they thought him to be well beneath their station. And while Mal knew that it was probably true, it still rankled a little, especially considering the fact he found them to be just as cold to River, their own blood.

Discerning the path his thoughts had taken, River hugged him tightly. "You won't have to entertain them alone," she said. "Simon will be there, too."

Mal smiled, grateful for the news. While he and Simon were never going to be the best of friends, Mal admired the devotion Simon had for his sister, and he was not likely to forget Simon's role in his physical recovery. Giving him another quick kiss, River said, "See you after the performance. Remember, curtain goes up at 8:00, and you have a seat in my parents' box."

"Think I got that the fifteenth time you mentioned it," Mal said dryly.

River looked at him sheepishly. "Sorry, just a little nervous. Opening night and all."

Mal drew her to him, heedless of their fine clothes. "Nothin' to be nervous about, darlin'. You'll be the best thing there, I'll guarantee."

Momentarily mesmerized by the sheer power of his love, River melted into his arms. "Love you, ai ren," she whispered, as their lips met.

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Mal arrived at the theater by 7:15 and was promptly seated in the Tams' private box. Though they did not exactly approve of River's career choice, they did make a point of attending the opening night of each production.

While Regan fiddled nervously with the rings on her fingers, Gabriel went through the laborious ritual of idle chit chat with Mal, his disdain patently obvious in his manner. Mal was more than a little relieved when Simon arrived. After shaking his father's hand and pecking his mother perfunctorily on the cheek, he turned to Mal with a sardonic smile. "I see you've been entertaining my parents until we could arrive," he said, ushering a stunningly beautiful woman to the chair beside Mal. "May I introduce Miss Inara Serra?"

Mal bowed politely. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

"And you, as well," the Companion said, sitting down gracefully in her chair and placing her small, well-manicured hand on Simon's knee. Immediately, the tension eased as the woman talked easily with the elder Tams, taking the heat of their attention away from Mal. Though he couldn't help wondering why they should be so delighted their son was keeping company with a high-priced whore when they were so clearly perturbed by his relationship with their daughter, he was at least glad for the distraction.

Soon enough, the curtain rose, and all other thoughts left Mal's mind as he watched River dance. Every line so perfect, every movement so fluid, she thoroughly captured Mal's heart, as she always did. Lost in the sight of her, he could scarcely breathe with the beauty of her dance. He had known she would be graceful, as she was in everything she did. But this, he thought, this was beyond beautiful, transcendent even, almost like a prayer on the lips of a devout man. This moment he would forever treasure.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal stood for a moment admiring the ease with which the Firefly class ship landed on the dock. He'd always liked the design of Firefly ships, and the pilot of this one obviously knew what he was doing.

"Reynolds, I ain't payin' you to stand 'round starin'," the boss said, spitting a stream of tobacco juice a scant foot from Mal's boots.

Muttering a string of Mandarin under his breath, Mal turned back to his work, though still surreptitiously looking at the ship. The ramp lowered, and all pretense of work left Mal's mind as he stared at the woman who stepped out into the light. Walking rapidly to meet her, he called out, "Zoe?"

Her head snapped around at the sound of his voice. "Sargeant?"

Mal could not help himself. He grabbed her up, swinging her about. "I thought they'd killed you, sure as spittin'," he said, the joy at seeing her alive and obviously well almost too much to take in.

When finally he thought to let her down, Zoe straightened her clothing smartly. "Thought you were dead as well, sir," she said blandly, though Mal saw the brightness of unshed tears in her eyes.

"Apparently, we ain't all that easy to kill," Mal said softly. When last he'd seen Zoe, she had been an emaciated walking corpse, weakened by a fever that had swept through the prison camp. He'd seen her fall and, unable to get to her for the chains around his ankles tethering him to his own gang of prisoners, he'd watched in horror as she was unceremoniously dragged out of her line and taken away. Having never seen her again in the camp, he'd assumed she had died of the fever and mistreatment.

"Apparently not," Zoe agreed, noting with a joy she would never show that he looked well.

Ignoring the call of his employer to return to his post, Mal asked, "So, you're crewing on this Firefly?"

"Yes," Zoe said. "Captain's a man by the name of Renshaw. Took Wash on as pilot, and I'm…well, I'm a gun hand, truth be told."

"Wash?" Mal asked.

"Somebody askin' for me, sweetums?"

Mal looked up to see a pale, blonde-haired man in a ridiculously colorful shirt heading down the ramp.

"Yes, dear," Zoe said. "Wash, this here's the man I've told you about, Malcolm Reynolds. Sargeant, this is Wash, my husband."

Mal's mouth dropped open in surprise, somehow never imagining Zoe married, much less to such an obviously happy-go-lucky man.

Wash slapped him on the back. "Good to meet ya'," he said heartily. "Zoe says you saved her life more than once."

Mal found his voice. "She did the same for me many a time."

"That's my Zoe," Wash said, wrapping his arm around his wife.

Zoe cleared her throat. "So, you workin' here on the dock, Sarge?"

Glancing back at the angry face of his boss, Mal said wryly, "Prob'ly not anymore, by the looks of it."

"In that case, maybe you'd like to come with us for a drink," Zoe offered. "Give us some time to catch up. And it might be Renshaw's got a little somethin' you could do."

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal and River lay in the darkened bedroom, sweat beginning to cool on their skin in the afterglow of their earlier passion. Trying for a neutral tone, River asked, "So, are you going to take him up on his offer?"

Mal shifted uncomfortably. "Would be good to be sailing into the Black," he said wistfully. "And a pure pleasure to be with Zoe again."

River felt a small fracture begin to form in her heart. "Sounds lovely," she said quietly.

They were silent for a time. Finally, Mal turned over, propping up on one elbow to look at her. "Problem is, I can't figure how you could dance out in the Black, and bein' as how I've seen you dance, I'm thinkin' it would be all manner of wrong to ask you to stop and come with me."

River swallowed painfully, picturing the emptiness she would feel when he had gone.

Mal continued. "So I told him no."

River looked up at him, sadness suddenly replaced by wild hope. "You said no?" she asked with wonder. "But why? I know how much you want to go, know how much it means to you."

Mal reached out, resting his hand on the curve of her hip. "Ain't gonna deny it was temptin'," he said. "But I'm powerfully in love with you, River Tam. So I conjure I best wait awhile 'fore I go out into the Black. Time will come when the only dancin' you'll want to do is with me. Reckon I can wait 'til then. It'll give me time to earn enough coin for our own boat. Then, when you're ready, we'll fly together. Wouldn't be worth it to go without you."

River's eyes shone with tears. "You'd really wait for me?' she whispered.

"Long's I'm drawin' breath," Mal said, pulling her to him. "Can't go anywhere if I gotta leave my heart behind."

And as he lay her down gently and made slow, sweet love to her, River knew it as a pure truth.

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	3. Chapter 3

**In the Garden—The Final Chapter (Really)**

Author: just-slummin

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.

Rating: PG13

Author's Note: OK, so at the request of a few stalwart souls who seem to be intrigued by this little Mal/River AU, here is the end of the story. (Italics indicate a dream sequence.)

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Having made his difficult decision, Mal went down to the docks to bid his best friend and her husband farewell. Zoe, in her typical fashion, revealed nothing of her opinion about his choice, but promised instead to visit when next their ship came to Osiris. As he watched Renshaw's boat lift gracefully into the atmo, Mal felt a twinge of sadness which he ruthlessly suppressed. And turning back on his heels, he approached his former employer to ask for his old job.

"How do I know you ain't gonna just walk off the job like you did yesterday?" the boss said unpleasantly.

Irritated by the tone, Mal tried to hold his temper. "It won't happen again. You have my word."

The boss snorted. "Fat lot of good the word of an ex-con is like to do me. I'll take you back this time, but any more go se like that and you're out. Dong ma?"

Swallowing his pride and thinking about what he'd like to do to the unpleasant hundan, Mal said, "Dang ran."

"Then, get to work, and be quick about it," the boss said. "I ain't payin' ya' to stand around lookin' purty."

XXXXXXXXXX

Autumn gave way to winter on Osiris, and Mal pulled the collar of his coat up to block some of the chill. As had become his custom, he made his way to the theater to escort River home after her final performance of the evening, not liking the idea of her walking the distance alone. As he caught sight of her at the back entrance, he was struck again by how very beautiful she was, her face freshly scrubbed of the heavy stage makeup and her hair pulled back loosely in a clip. She smiled when she saw him, lifting her face toward the sky. A light snow was falling, and little flakes caught on her lashes, glinting like tiny jewels in the moonlight. "Isn't it wonderful?" she said enthusiastically. "I always love the snow."

Mal declined to answer, preferring to kiss her instead. Linking arms, they walked back home, talking quietly about the myriad of inconsequential things that make up the tapestry of lives shared, one with another. Though Mal would have preferred to go straight inside upon returning home, River had other ideas and persuaded him to stand in the garden with her as she twirled about, enjoying the first snow fall of the season. So he watched her and wished silently that he could find as much innocent pleasure in it as she did.

XXXXXXXXXX

_Mal stood stripped to the waist and barefooted, shivering in the prison yard. As happened on a fairly regular basis, a new guard had been assigned to his block, a guard who'd most likely lost a father, son, or brother in Serenity Valley. A heavy snow was falling and Mal, already weakened by hunger and the cruel attentions of previous guards, was barely holding on after hours of standing in the same position. Icy water trickled down his back and chest, soaking the thin pants he'd been permitted to wear until they clung tightly to his legs. Finally, tiring of his little diversion, the guard left the warm shelter of the guard tower. As he approached his prisoner, Mal saw that he carried a length of chain, one end wrapped around his beefy hand. The first swing of the heavy chain brought Mal to his knees gasping in pain as it tore through the thinly stretched skin over his emaciated rib cage. _

"_Get up," the guard ordered roughly._

_Struggling to his feet, Mal held his arms protectively over the torn flesh. As the second and third blows fell, Mal saw the pattern of his own blood spattered in the dirty snow. The seventeenth blow sent him into merciful unconsciousness._

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal bolted awake, the nightmare memory making his blood run cold. River sat up beside him, laying her hand gently over his heart. "You were dreaming, ai ren ," she said soothingly as she heard the harsh sound of his breathing.

"Not just a dream," Mal answered raggedly. "A memory."

"Do you want to talk about it?" River asked, though she had already seen it fully formed in his mind.

"No, darlin'," he answered tiredly. "Can't say as I do. Sorry I woke you."

"It doesn't matter," River said, pushing him back down and arranging herself beside him. She lay awake for a long time after he had fallen back into a restless slumber, and she wished for a time when the first snowfall of the season would not evoke the horror of that particular memory in her lover.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal saved each coin that he could for the day when River would choose to leave the Ballet and come with him into the Black. And each day, he talked with Kaylee on their meager breaks about the merits of various ship designs and engines while Kaylee nursed her newborn son. At first, Mal was mildly uncomfortable at the sight, but Kaylee had such a naturalness about everything she did that he was soon over his initial reaction. Kaylee was in agreement with him that the Firefly class ships were ideal for his purposes, though she warned him that it would be very hard to find one in decent working condition. "Course," she said, "if'n you could find one, I could probably help ya' fix 'er up."

"I'd take it as a kindness if you did," Mal said, feeling unaccountably hopeful with her words.

Looking down the alleyway, Kaylee said, "Got someone I'd like you to meet, Mal."

Mal followed her gaze and saw a large man walking purposefully toward them, something intimidating in his stride. "This here's my Jayne," Kaylee said, reaching up to hug the man. "Honey, this here's Mal."

Eyeing Mal warily, Jayne asked bluntly, "You ain't been sexing' Kaylee, have you?"

Mal sputtered for a moment until Kaylee came to his defense. "Mal don't want no part of me. Got hisself a fine lady dancer. 'Sides, Jayne Cobb, you know there ain't no man better'n you." She batted her eyes at her husband, dissipating his suspicion easily.

Jayne grinned, turning back to Mal. "Then I reckon it's good to meet ya'," he said, holding out his huge hand. "Man never knows what's what when he's been gone long enough."

Mal nodded. "Kaylee tells me you plan to stay awhile."

Jayne sighed uncomfortably. "Reckon I need to stay with her and the rugrat now he's born and all. Boy needs a father 'round to teach him things."

Mal nodded. "What will you do for work?" he asked.

Jayne grinned a wicked grin. "Might be best you didn't know."

Mal thought he was most likely right.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I'm just going to go ahead and check it out," Simon said. He was eating a late supper with River and Mal and discussing the new job offer he'd received.

"It doesn't make sense, Simon," River insisted. "Why would a trauma surgeon be needed on a research team at BlueSun?"

Simon sighed, exasperated. "I don't know, River. All I know is that they are most insistent that I could be of real use to them. And they are offering an obscene amount of money for me to join their team. Besides, as I understand it, I'll still be working under the auspices of the hospital. It's apparently some sort of joint project, government-sponsored and all that. I'll still retain my hospital position, but for the duration of the research, I'll be working in the BlueSun labs."

Mal said nothing, though the idea of it somehow made his hackles rise. He had no say in Simon's life, and it appeared that the man was unwilling to listen to his sister as well. Mal decided not to mention anything about his experience with BlueSun and the experiments they'd been allowed to perform on some in the prison camps. It was a memory that he'd just as soon forget, and surely Simon would not be a party to anything as inhumane as what he'd seen them do. BlueSun must have several research projects that had nothing to do with any such thing, he reasoned.

"Could we just change the subject, please?" Simon asked, knowing that River could be incredibly stubborn when she thought she was right.

River sighed, not ready to concede defeat, but also not wanting to alienate her brother. "Just be careful," she said. "I don't trust this whole thing. And you know I'm rarely wrong."

Simon smiled. "I will be careful, mei mei. Don't worry." Pushing the conversation in another direction, he said, "Did I tell you about Inara?"

"What about her?" River asked.

"She's agreed to be my personal Companion," Simon said proudly.

Mal's mouth dropped open. "Your what?"

Simon rolled his eyes. "I know you don't approve of her profession, Mal, but things are different in the Core. I haven't the time to go out and find some woman who wants to set up housekeeping and make babies. Inara is a delightful Companion, and I'm quite taken with her. I believe she feels the same way. So, she has agreed to be exclusive to me."

"If you pay her enough, right?" Mal asked, not quite able to wrap his mind around the concept.

River kicked him under the table. "That's wonderful, Simon," she said, giving Mal a

warning look. "What does she think of this new job offer with BlueSun?"

Simon sighed. "You really are relentless, aren't you? You're such a brat."

XXXXXXXXXX

Simon took the new job, and River worried as he failed to stay in touch with her after the first few weeks. And as the winter progressed, there were new reasons for anxiety. A wave had been broadcast over the Cortex on the Core worlds, claiming a government conspiracy to cover up some sort of Alliance experiment gone wrong on a planet called Miranda. While the government vehemently denied the allegations as completely false and denounced the recorded wave as a forgery, there was a feeling of general unrest among the population. More and more people began to doubt the validity of the government's stand, and within a very short time, martial law was declared on Osiris as well as most other Core planets.

Curfews were efficiently enforced, and places of public meeting, including the theater where River performed, were closed until such time as the government deemed necessary to ensure the well-being of the population. Mal, never comfortable with the authorities, became increasingly concerned as he and River began to hear rumors of a concentrated effort on the part of the Alliance to round up enemies of the state. Figuring he would surely be grouped into that category, Mal felt like a caged animal once again, and his nightmares became more and more frequent and vivid.

A particularly brutal memory surfaced in his dreams one night, and River was shaken to the core by the image it burned into her own brain. She cried out, trembling even as Mal jolted awake himself. Looking at her with haunted eyes, he said as calmly as he could manage, "You saw it, didn't you?"

Unable to hide her reaction, she nodded mutely.

"You always see them, don't you?" he pressed.

She nodded again, trying to find her voice.

"Ye su, River, why didn't you tell me before?" he asked, horrified at the images to which he had exposed her unwittingly. "Nobody should have to see such as that, least of all you."

"I was afraid."

"Afraid of what? Me?" he asked, his voice catching in his throat.

"Afraid you wouldn't stay if you knew that I'm a Reader," River answered.

Mal drew her close, still feeling her shiver as the images of the dream replayed in her head. "I love you, River. Can't be thinking on leaving the woman I love just because she knows a few things she shouldn't have to. Though I am sorry for what you've seen."

River clung to him tightly. "Not as bad as living through them," she whispered. "So much pain, so much cruelty, it can hardly be believed."

Mal's jaw set in a hard line. "There's plenty of cruelty just as bad or worse in this 'verse. Least I found a safe place to call home, here with you."

"I don't know how long it will be safe," River said seriously. "It's just a matter of time before they close the ports. And once they do, there will be nowhere for us to run if they try to arrest you again. We need to leave now, while we still can."

Mal pulled away from her to look at her directly. "You sayin' you're ready to go, to leave your home and come with me to the Black?"

"You're my home, ai ren," she answered. "I'm ready."

Mal smiled, his heart suddenly much lighter than it had been of late. "Then we'd best set about to find a ship, I'm thinkin'."

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal and River found out fairly quickly that there were no flight-ready ships available for the meager price that they could afford. River offered to sell her home, but Mal refused, not altogether sure that she would take to a life in the Black, and not wanting her to be homeless if she needed to come back to Osiris. So, after a lengthy argument about it, they agreed to look for a ship within their price range that could perhaps be repaired in a reasonable amount of time.

As they walked through the assorted vessels in the salvage yard, Mal saw it. The Firefly sat alone on a hill calling to him with the barest of whispers in his soul. Walking unerringly to it, he knew immediately that this was the one. River followed, sensing his excitement in the bounce of his step. Mal climbed up into the ship, pulling River up beside him. "I like this one," he said eagerly.

River laughed. "You haven't even walked around in it yet."

"Don't have to," Mal said, running his hands along the bulkhead of the vessel. "She talking to me." His eyes twinkled merrily. "You mean you can't hear that?"

River could not help returning his smile. "Maybe after I walk around a bit," she said dryly. And so they walked, River trailing her hands along the walls of the ship as Mal examined everything about it. When they had made the full circuit, he looked at her expectantly.

River nodded her head. "I heard her," she said. "Wants to fly again, wants you to be her master."

"Funny, that's what I heard too," Mal said, grinning like a child at Christmas. "Should be able to get her cheap enough, condition she's in. And Kaylee'll help me get her ready, I conjure."

XXXXXXXXXX

So it was that Mal spent his days working on the docks, and his evening hours before curfew working on the Firefly he chose to call Serenity. Kaylee, true to her word, worked with him, even enlisting Jayne's help for the heavier jobs that were required. River, unemployed due to the curfew, worked alongside them, learning as she went.

Mal was endlessly proud of her, as she seemed to catch on to everything about the ship far more quickly than he could have hoped. By the time spring had turned to summer, they were very close to being ready to sail. Rumors swirled around the docks that the ports were very close to closing, and Mal was more than a mite eager to be underway. To that end, he began to think about putting together a small crew.

Kaylee lay under the engine, doing some tedious rewiring that Mal couldn't begin to follow, while Jayne sat with their little one over in the corner. "Think she'll be ready in the next couple of weeks?" Mal asked.

Kaylee popped her head out to answer him. "Don't see why not. You get her stocked up with supplies, and I'll have her hummin' like a satisfied woman in no time."

"That bein' the case, I got a little proposition for you," Mal said, including Jayne in his look. "It's fair obvious that she's got a lot of wear on her. I'm thinkin' I need to hire on a mechanic to look to her and keep her in the air. I conjure with the kind of work I'll be doin', I could find some use for a gun hand as well. I'd pay a decent wage, as I can, and you'd have a berth of your own, big enough for you and the little one."

Jayne looked at him warily. "How much of a wage?'

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal gave his notice to his employer, and was completing the last week of his agreed upon contract. Having given River the task of moving the things she wished to take with her to the ship, he hoped that she'd be able to find a couple of passengers to fill up the dorms while she was there. They would have need of the extra coin to begin their journey. She'd already found one man, a preacher of all things, and while Mal had no use for religiosity after all he'd experienced, he let it go, being as how the man had paid for a month in advance. Book seemed a decent enough sort of fellow, despite his being a Shepherd.

Standing up from his task to wipe his brow, Mal saw in the distance a ship he recognized. Within a scant few minutes, he saw Zoe and Wash disembark, heading in his direction. Thinking that this was the happiest of coincidences, he stuck his head into the office and asked for a break. Getting a short nod from his disinterested boss, he started out to meet the couple. As he approached, he noticed that they each carried a duffel bag.

"Plannin' on vacationing in lovely Osiris for awhile?" he asked, walking up to them with a smile.

Zoe looked at him impassively. "Looks like we might be, at that," she said. "Renshaw got a mite nervous about having an ex-con Independent on as a gun hand. Says it's bad for business in the Core worlds, what with the curfews and the ident checks everywhere you go. Decided it was time to part company."

Mal could not hide his delight. Zoe stared at him. "I'd be obliged to you if you'd explain why what I said makes you grin like that, sir. It ain't exactly the best of news."

"Depends on how you look at it," Mal said. "I've got a powerful need for a pilot and first mate myownself, and I've been fair concerned about where I might could look to find 'em."

Wash looked at him questioningly. "You've got a ship?"

"Little Firefly over there in berth 47, name of Serenity," Mal said proudly, noting Zoe's reaction to the name. "Planning on leaving end of the week for parts unknown. Wanna come?"

XXXXXXXXXX

The rest of the week passed quickly, and the crew got settled into their new home, while Mal and River spent the last few nights of their time in River's house. Lying in the stillness of their bedroom, Mal admitted softly, "Can't say I won't miss this place a little, darlin'. Don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't found me in your garden that night."

River smiled, tracing lazy patterns across his chest. "Found myself in that garden too," she said. "Found my home, in you."

Mal moved to kiss her, but a knock on the door startled them both. It was well past curfew, and they were both uneasy. River went to open the door, just in case whoever was on the other side had come for Mal. As soon as the door opened, Inara moved quickly inside, pulling Simon behind her. "I…I didn't know where else to go," she said shakily. "Simon needs…help. You have to help us."

River was shocked by her brother's appearance. She'd never seen him so disheveled, so obviously in distress. His eyes darted wildly around the room, and when she tried to read him, she was overwhelmed by his confusion and fear. "Simon," she said, approaching him slowly. "It's all right. You're going to be all right."

Mal looked at the scene, alarm bells ringing in his head. "What happened?" he asked Inara.

Inara shuddered. "I'm …I'm not sure. He's been behaving erratically for a few days. Distracted, a little disoriented. And then tonight, when he got home from the laboratory, he started babbling about some sort of experiment. He said they were hurting him. I didn't understand, and I tried to calm him down, but he's been like this all evening. He said they were…doing things to him, horrible things. He begged me not to take him to the hospital. He says people are following him, watching him. I didn't know what to do."

"You did the right thing bringing him here," Mal said reassuringly. "Did you see anyone following you?"

Inara shook her head. "No, I don't think so. We slipped out the back entrance of the apartment complex, and we stayed in the shadows as much as we could."

While she talked, River rocked Simon in her arms, soothing him as well as she was able. As he calmed, she turned horrified eyes to Mal. "He's telling the truth. I can see it, see some of what's been done to him. We have to take him with us. It's not safe for him here."

Mal nodded. "There's room aplenty for him. Does he need medical care?"

Inara spoke up. "There's not a scratch on him, anywhere that I can see. Whatever's been done was not physical." She paused. "How will you get him to safety? He's terrified of being seen. You won't be able to book passage on a ship of any kind."

"Don't need to," Mal said. "Got our own ship, stocked and ready to take off in a couple of days. Though I think we might have to push the departure time up a mite, by the looks of it."

Inara stood staring at Simon, her face pale in the dim light. "Can you take me with you?" she asked quietly. "He's…well, he's very precious to me."

"Of course," River answered simply, looking at Inara intently. "He'll need you."

Mal nodded. "I'll walk you back home. You'll need to get some things together for both of you."

Inara shook her head. "I'll go by myself. No need for you to risk arrest for curfew violation, especially since you're a…." She paused delicately.

Mal nodded, saving her the trouble of finishing the sentence. "Meet us at Berth 47 of the dock at 6:00 tomorrow night. There's less curious eyes about at that hour."

XXXXXXXXXX

Having settled the still disoriented Simon and Inara into one of the shuttles on Serenity, Mal and River made their way to the bridge. Wash sat at the console, waiting for the word to take off.

"Take us out of the world, Wash," Mal said, putting his arm around River's shoulders.

As Serenity hummed to life under them and lifted into the Black, Mal felt the weight of his past easing from his shoulders. River smiled up at him, feeling the emotion vicariously. "You readin' me, darlin'?" Mal whispered against her ear.

"Can't help it," she answered softly. "You're inside me now. Unbreakable bond. No power in the 'verse can stop it."

"Good to know," Mal said, as he led her to their bunk and into their future.

XXXXXXXXXX


End file.
